


But if You Really Hold Me Tight

by Lokei



Category: Glee
Genre: Christmas, M/M, Missing Scene, Season/Series 03
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-15
Updated: 2011-12-15
Packaged: 2017-10-27 08:51:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/293937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lokei/pseuds/Lokei
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Missing scene from 3x09.  Kurt and Blaine contemplate the ramifications of Artie’s ‘vision’ for the television special.</p>
            </blockquote>





	But if You Really Hold Me Tight

“So, we own an impeccably decorated Swiss chalet with bedazzled stockings in the world according to Artie,” Blaine grinned as he and Kurt curled together on the junior’s bed reading over the scripts that Artie had passed out that afternoon after Sam left.

Kurt smiled softly and leaned a little closer. “For someone that doesn’t actually seem to like me all that much, Artie has at least given future retro me one really good thing there.”

Blaine blinked and sat up a little to get a better angle on Kurt’s face. “Okay, wait. What? I’m going to need you to go through that again with more explanation.”

Kurt pulled away a bit and wrapped his arms around himself, which made Blaine ache somewhere behind his sternum in a not good way.

“You, as a badly-disguised ‘best friend and holiday roommate,’ are clearly the best thing in this retro vision of a future me’s life,” Kurt said to his knees. “Not that the idea of a chalet isn’t nice, though I’d be happier with a Manhattan penthouse with a rooftop garden. It is less traditionally Christmas-y I suppose.” He looked up and smiled. “But I like the idea that we’re so _us_ that the other New Directions just accept that we’d be living together. Stockings and sequins and all.”

“I like that part too.” Blaine scooted closer again and wriggled his fingers in between Kurt’s, tugging a little so that there was enough space for him to get his arm curled around his boyfriend’s. “And it was really sweet how upset Rachel looked at the idea that she somehow wouldn’t be invited to Christmas at our place. Like it went from imaginary to real in about three seconds in her head.”

Kurt snorted lightly. “She’s always been pretty good at getting wrapped up in her own version of reality. But assuming she doesn’t pull something like the amazing presidential race betrayal again, she can assume she has a standing invite, at least from me.”

Blaine smiled. “Works for me.” He squeezed Kurt’s arm. “Now, what’s this about Artie not liking you? You two didn’t seem to have any major problems during _West Side Story_. Not like either of us completely agreed with all his calls as a director, but—“

Kurt sighed and gave in to Blaine’s subtle pull so that their sides were touching again. “For all that he claims to be for equality and blind casting, Artie is really at least as hetero-normative as Mr. Schue, or maybe more so. Just ask Tina about the 'tighter clothing' debacle. Basically, I think I make him uncomfortable.” Kurt sighed. “I’m not saying Mike didn’t do an amazing job as Riff, and there’s no one in the school who could have done as good a job as you at Tony so we’re not going to even go there, but it was Artie’s lack of support that landed me with a non-singing role in the first musical that McKinley’s managed to pull off in three years. He’s seen me when we did the funk number, and as Riff-Raff, and in my ill-conceived Mellencamp week, but it’s like he looks at me and only remembers the Gaga week. Maybe I couldn’t have pulled off Tony, Rachel and I admittedly don’t have quite the right kind of chemistry for that. But I know I have the timing and the athleticism to have played Riff, even if Coach Beiste couldn’t see me in the romantic lead.” Kurt shrugged. “But Artie of the ‘non-traditional casting’ said he worried I was ‘too delicate.’ Despite the gloves and the knives _and_ the most boring pair of shoes I own.”

Blaine could feel his lips twist fondly at that last part, but schooled his face back to seriousness. “I think playing Tony to your Riff would have added a little more spice to that relationship than people would have expected. And I’m not sure how I would have handled having you die in my arms over and over. But you would have killed the part, I know it.” He picked up his copy of Artie’s script and fanned the pages with his free hand.

“Maybe this is his way of making it up to you, though. I mean, you have more lines than anyone.”

Kurt’s smile was brief and unconvinced as he took the pages from Blaine. “It’s possible. But look at these characters we’re supposed to be playing. I recognize and appreciate the homage to classic holiday specials past, but this is beyond playing with a style. Mercedes and Rachel have stylized lines. You and I have caricatured ones. Pouting over an Elizabeth Taylor auction? Candy-striped capris? It’s like putting a magnifying glass up to our most easily stereotyped quirks, and only those. Plus, I would never, ever forget to turn the oven on with company expected.”

“Of course the real you wouldn’t. But this isn’t you, it’s a character, you said it yourself.”

“With my name. And yours. Blaine, it makes us look ridiculous.”

“No, it makes us look like we’re hamming it up like the stars of the silver screen from fifty or sixty years ago. If we play it right, then it’s just funny. It’s a parody, a little gentle fun poked at a time when people in movies randomly broke into tap dancing in their living rooms and put on musicals in barns.”

Kurt dropped the pages to the bed beside them and it was his turn to shift to look Blaine in the face. “And you’re okay with that?”

“For the sake of getting to sing a fairly romantic duet with you on television for hundreds or even thousands of people to see? Yes.”

Kurt blinked at him.

“What? You were the one last year who said it was a pity King’s Island would never let us sing ‘Baby It’s Cold Outside’ together. And in Artie’s script there aren’t even any girls around during our number to provide plausible deniability that we’d be singing to anyone but each other. That would never have happened in a real fifties or sixties holiday special. Put enough of a pause into your line about ‘holiday roommates’ and what you’re really doing is highlighting all the social progress that’s been made since then.”

Kurt’s lips curved upwards infinitesimally, and his fingers on Blaine’s arm tightened. “Have I told you recently that I love you?”

Blaine grinned. “Feel free to repeat yourself.”

“I love you. And I will love you even more if you can convince my dad of your version of how to read this script, because he’s going to have the same reaction I did, only probably worse. Because they may have elected the new Congressman with the gay son, but this is still the same Ohio population that called our house and the garage with repeated homophobic slurs.”

“But that was probably not the PBS-watching segment of the population,” Blaine offered. “Statistically speaking.”

Kurt shook his head and his smile got a little bit less tentative. “I swear it’s like you exhale Christmas cheer these days. What’s gotten in to you?”

Blaine pulled them both down to lay horizontal on the bed, fingers of one hand curled into the lip of one of Kurt’s pants pockets. “We won Sectionals, your father has stopped telling us to keep the bedroom door open when we’re at your house, and I’m getting to serenade my extremely attractive boyfriend on television. Plus we’re going to sing at that shelter, which feels really good.”

Kurt chuckled and turned his head to kiss Blaine’s nearest available skin, which happened to be his jaw line. “We are going to try to talk to Artie and Mr. Schue about making sure we can get to both, right? Because I think filming is going to conflict with the time Coach Sylvester originally told us.”

“We’ll make it work,” Blaine agreed. “Assuming you think she was actually genuine.”

“It’s hard to predict her these days,” Kurt shrugged. “Last year I would have assumed it was a trick, this year she might really mean what she says. I’d like to think she does.”

“So we’ll see what the rest of the club says, and hope for the best.” Blaine tugged at Kurt’s pocket and his boyfriend obligingly shifted so most of his weight was pressing Blaine into the bed. “Meanwhile, we could practice.”

Kurt raised an eyebrow. “Practice?”

“Background research for being—“ Blaine paused dramatically, “best friends and holiday roommates.” He raised his eyebrows hopefully and sang a few bars. “ _If you really hold me tight…_ ”

Kurt grinned, curving in close as requested. “Very method. I approve.”


End file.
